


Worth it

by Leya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Godstiel: Cas as God, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leya/pseuds/Leya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night Gabriel tells himself that it is worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth it

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd.

The clock strikes midnight and I know it’s time. Slowly walking over to the mirror on the opposite side of the room I start to undress with swift and efficient movements.

Finally naked I eye myself critically in the shiny surface but there is no need to worry. My skin is pale and soft, deliciously shimmering in the candlelight like silk. There are no scars, not the slightest sign of imperfection. He doesn’t like to be see the reminders of what he does to me. Instead he loves to renew his claim over and over again and I carefully make sure that every night he has the perfect scroll to write on.

A look to the clock tells me that I have to hurry. He will be here soon and I still have to prepare myself.

Returning to the bed I’m grabbing the lubricant waiting for me on the nightstand and use it to coat my fingers. One finger, two, three, I’m so used to it by now that I barely register the initial pain of intrusion, all I’m concentrating on is to open up myself as thoroughly as possible, the day he took me dry all too vivid in my mind.

When my fingers finally slide in and out of my hole without resistance I put the lube away, moving to lay down on the bed.

Should I turn around? I’m not sure. Sometimes he wants me on my back, sometimes on my stomach. I decide to lay on my back. As soon as I’m positioned in the middle of the bed I’m spreading my legs and await his arrival. He likes it when I’m wide open and ready for his touch. He expects me to offer myself willingly. And I do. Every time.

Because my body is the price that keeps him from giving in to this all-consuming wrath eating away the last shreds of his already diminishing sanity.

The door creaks open and he steps out of the darkness into the flickering light of the candles I have lit for him. His eyes wander over my body and I can see he’s content with the sight offered to him.

He approaches the bed and throws off his clothes. He’s already hard, a first drop of pre-cum glistening on the head of his arousal.

"Turn around."

His voice is harsh from hardly suppressed desire and I follow his order immediately. He joins me on the bed and runs his fingers over my thigh.

"On your hands and knees."

Again I obey quickly. His finger caresses my opening before he pushes two of them without warning into my hole.

"Prepared yourself. I like that." He works his fingers in and out of my hole, scissoring them every then and now until he’s tired of playing. With a swift movement he’s on his knees behind me. The thick head of his cock nudges against my opening and then he’s inside me, moving deeper and deeper, gliding forward until he’s completely sheathed within me.

By now I’m shivering in anticipation and fear. I know it will hurt. It always hurts when he’s fucking me but at the same time he knows all too well how to make me want him. He knows how much I like it when he’s raining kisses on my neck and shoulders, knows I’m completely lost when his hand strokes my erection in the same rhythm he’s using to ride me.

His thrusts become harder and deeper and soon I’m screaming and writhing and begging him for release, begging him to let me go, begging him to continue. I don’t know what I’m screaming but suddenly he changes the angle of his thrusts and now each single movement aims at my prostate, sending shivers and waves of pleasure through my body, turning me into the moaning, wanton slut he wants me to be.

At this point I would do everything for him and by now I’m meeting his thrusts eagerly, not caring if it hurts, not caring if he tears me apart, only trying to find release from this unbearable pleasure he’s inflicting on me. His hand furiously jerks my erection in harsh strokes and I come screaming his name.

Completely spend he collapses on my back, pressing me down into the mattress. His weight’s nearly crashing me but I don’t care. I’m too exhausted to even care.

It doesn’t take him long to recover. He dresses himself and without even looking back he leaves.

Snapping my fingers I clean up the mess he made and walk over to the mirror. My hand reaches out, fingertips brushing over the bruises on my hips, restoring the cold pure perfection of unblemished skin.

_Is is really worth it?_

Not willing to face the lie that I am living for so long now I sit down on the edge of the bed to wait for his return, the doubtful voice in the back of my mind nothing more than a faint memory.

 

END


End file.
